Yes, Sir
by rckyfrk
Summary: A 3-part contribution to Emergency Bethyl Smut Weekend 2016. Warnings: Dom/sub relationship; nearly dub-con; degradation; name-calling; outdoor sex; kind of forced impregnation; sleeping sex.
1. Chapter 1

**Warnings: Dom-sub relationship; nearly dub-con; aftercare; outdoor sex; mild degradation; name-calling.**

"Oh my god, Daryl," she moaned in his ear. "That was...amazing," she whispered, swallowing the dryness out of her throat. Trying to stay quiet in the middle of the night in the middle of the house they shared with their family was thirsty work. Lots of panting and all.

He pushed himself up from where he'd collapsed on her body and settled next to her. Concern crossed his features, "Wasn't too much, was it?"

"God no," she said emphatically. They'd been experimenting, dabbling really, with different positions and dirty talk. Nothing super extreme, but definitely more than just run of the mill pillow talk. "If what you do makes me feel like this," she lazily gestured to her own body, "I think I'd let you fuck me any time you wanted." She blushed slightly at the profanity that had slipped out, but only slightly. Considering what they'd just said to each other mere moments ago, this was completely tame.

"Any time, huh?" he grinned at her, nuzzling into her neck.

"Yes, Sir." She giggled at that.

He claimed she started it when they got back together in Alexandria and she tried calling him Mister Dixon as part of their pillow talk, but he told her right away (mid-act, in fact) that he didn't like it. When she asked what she should call him, he simply said, "Sir." Apparently it was something in a porno he'd seen before the turn, he'd explained, and just wanted to try it. He started calling her his little slut, and smacked her ass when she called him Daryl instead of Sir like he'd insisted. She got an odd little thrill when he called her names like that. Slut, whore, bitch. She knew he didn't really mean any of them, and she probably shouldn't like it, but damn if it didn't turn her on.

She'd meant it. She'd let him do whatever the hell he wanted to her. Every time with him was incredible, leaving her tingling inside and out. Apparently, being dirty felt very, _very_ good.

"I'll keep that in mind," he murmured just before nipping at her neck. It wasn't long at all before they crashed together into a sex coma.

It was days before Daryl even touched her again. Most people in Alexandria had figured they were together, so she knew it wasn't for any sense of propriety, but she started to get worried when he didn't even sit with her at meal times. He'd still crawl into bed with her each night, but wouldn't try anything more risqué than sliding his arms around her. She was beginning to think maybe she'd said something during their last time together that upset him.

That is until she was walking toward the clothes line with a basket full of laundry. She had just set the basket on the ground and bent over to grab the first article of clothing when she felt strong hands grab her hips from behind and drag her backwards to the side of the house. She suddenly found herself with her face pressed against the rough brick of the building and was about to panic until she heard his rough voice growl in her ear.

"Wearing those skanky little shorts again, slut? You know what I told you would happen if I caught you wearing those again."

Beth fought the grin that threatened to break across her face. "Yes, Sir."

"Yeah?" he doubted her mockingly. "What'd I say?" She clammed up, unable to force the words out of her mouth, especially out here where anyone could hear her. She wanted to state her case, that all her other shorts were in the wash she was just about to hang up to dry, and it was the height of summer. What else was she supposed to wear? She stayed silent, knowing her pleas for mercy would fall on deaf ears. "Better talk girl, or you'll get worse."

She gasped in a quick breath, then whispered, "Y-you said you'd tear the damn things off me and fuck me, no matter where I was. Treat me like the s-skank that I am."

He snorted in her ear, "And ya went an' wore 'em anyway. Dirty girl."

"Yes, Sir," she repeated, wondering if he'd actually follow through with his threat.

Just by that, he pulled her shorts roughly over her hips, not even bothering to unbutton or unzip them. She'd surely have bruises very soon, but the feeling of him being so rough with her left her unable to care.

What she _did_ care about was when he ripped her underwear right off her. She turned to glare at him, but didn't even have a chance to say anything before he smacked her right on the ass... _hard._

"Didn't say you could turn around, girl," he admonished her. "'Sides, little cock teases like you don't get to wear cute little panties like this." He held them up so she could see them, white with little blue flowers on them, before stuffing them in her mouth. She could smell her own arousal on them, which only added to the wetness between her thighs.

"Not a sound."

He angled her hips toward him and lined himself up with her opening. The next thing she knew, he was shoving his cock into her, slowly but still forceful, claiming her pussy as his. There was no pain, no discomfort, despite their lack of foreplay; just him calling her that name had her instantly dripping for him. Still, his entry was sudden, and he gave no warm up to thrusting into her.

He took her fast and hard right from the start, and Beth did her best to obey him and stay quiet. The worst of it was the rough surface of the wall scratching her cheek. She briefly wondered how she could explain it away until Daryl grabbed her ponytail and pulled her back toward him, her back pressed firmly against his chest.

She wanted to spread her legs a little, but was unable to with the shorts wrapped around her knees like they were. The position made her incredibly tight, and she swore every one of his thrusts made her feel like she was about to split in half. It was just this side of painful, but she wanted to be a good girl for him, this man who had become the master of her heart...and now her body...so she focused on taking deep breaths and letting him do what he wanted with her.

He released her hair only to wrap his fingers around her throat, squeezing just enough to stop that deep breathing, sending a jolt of panic rushing through her. Daryl kept pounding into her, keeping his hold on her, only allowing her to take the shallowest of breaths.

"Such a good little slut," he groaned in her ear. "This what you do now? Just let men come up and fuck you? Filthy thing, don't even care where you are, as long as you're getting fucked, huh?"

She couldn't respond, even if she had the breath in her to form words and her mouth was free to move. Somehow, she found herself nodding in agreement in time to his thrusts.

"You gonna come for me, slut?" Another tiny nod. "You're loving this, huh?" Again, a nod. "Mmm, I'm gonna cum. Gonna cum in that little pussy."

She felt him explode inside her, which triggered her own orgasm, causing her walls to spasm around him. He kept driving into her, not giving her any reprieve from the sensations washing through her. After one last thrust, he slid out of her and tucked himself back in his pants before bending down and pulling her shorts up for her.

"You alright, darlin'?" he asked, turning her around and taking her underwear from her mouth. She worked the stiffness out of her jaw and nodded. "Need to hear you say it, sweetheart."

"I'm alright," she said quietly.

He held her face between his large hands, searching for any sign of her hiding something from him. Satisfied at not finding any, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tight before scooping her up and carrying her inside.

"Daryl, I need to finish the laundry...and I can walk, you know," she complained half-heartedly.

"Later, baby girl," he said soothingly. "Right now I'm gonna clean you up and take my time getting you dressed again."

Beth grinned and looped her arms around his neck. "Yes Sir."


	2. Chapter 2

**Please check summary for warnings.**

She hated when he had to go on a run. She knew it was necessary, especially to appease Negan and keep her family safe. With other communities scrambling to meet his demands, Daryl's team of "scavengers" had to travel further and further out, which terrified Beth to no end. She knew Daryl could handle himself, but he was also one to jump into a dangerous situation to try to save someone else. He'd told her he'd always come back to her, but she knew he wasn't really able to make that promise and keep it. One day, the party would return without him, and she dreaded every minute she had to wait to find out if today would be that day.

To make matters worse, she couldn't find any comfort in sleep; her dreams were always fraught with images of Daryl dying horrible deaths. She would always wake up, sheets soaked from her own sweat and tangled around her legs, her breathing shallow and frantic as the visions slowly faded in her mind.

Unless she'd had one of _those_ dreams, the kind where she got to invent all kinds of naughty situations for her and Daryl to find themselves, where she would wake up in much the same way, but the sheets were definitely not soaked from her sweat.

She wasn't sure which type of dream was worse.

She'd taken to just wearing one of his button down shirts to bed while he was away so she could at least smell him and pretend he was close by. It was the height of summer, where the humidity in the air doesn't give the night a chance to cool things off. It was so warm that she decided to go without underwear, not able to stand the feel of elastic rubbing on her already too warm skin. She eventually drifted off to sleep, her dreams quickly changing from the mundane to visions of Daryl there with her, stroking her hair, between her legs, covering her with his body, saying all manner of things to her – the kinds of things that would rival the heat still clinging to the air around her from the day already past.

Calling her his good little slut.

She shifted in bed to lay spread out on her back with very little effort, and vaguely registered feeling a slight chill as she lay there and let herself relax in this new position. Her dreams had always been vivid, especially her sex-with-Daryl dreams, and that remained true this time as she felt him touching her, cupping her mound, teasing her slit with the tip of his finger. Before she could react, the feeling was gone, and she moaned at the loss. Even in her dream, he teased her, but she loved it either way.

She remained still as her dream-Daryl settled himself between her thighs and press the head of his cock between her lips, sliding into her with ease. Her knees brought themselves up, almost touching her chest, doing whatever it took to feel him deep inside her. She loved when her real-life Daryl took her like this, bending her nearly in half, taking complete control of her body. They had quickly learned it was the fastest way for them to both reach their climax, usually at almost the same time, one's orgasm triggering the other's. She could just feel him filling her over and over, grinding into her at an even pace.

Before she knew it, she could feel her body's telltale signs that she was going to cum – a warmth spreading through her chest, a tingle at the back of her neck preparing to race down her spine, her inner walls quivering, ready to milk the cock inside of her, even if it was a figment of her imagination. Daryl sped up his tempo, pushing so deeply into her that her ass was coming off the mattress.

Finally, her body gave itself over to pleasure, electricity shooting through her in an intense orgasm. Her dream was so intense, she swore she could feel him pulsing inside her, feel his hot sticky cum shooting right up against her cervix, which was hungrily pulling all it could into her.

It wasn't the first time she had climaxed in her sleep, but it was definitely the strongest orgasm she'd had from just a dream. As her body came down from its pleasure-induced high, she moved to stretch and relax, but something was stopping her. She tried again, but the same something was blocking her movements. She frowned and forced one eye open, then the other so she could be sure she wasn't still dreaming.

"Daryl?" His only answer was to lean further into her and kiss her. "Daryl, what the hell are you...?"

"I just got back. Didn't wanna wake you, but couldn't wait anymore. You looked so damn good, I...I had to have you."

Her first reaction was to be pissed... _really_ pissed. He just went and fucked her? Did he really think she'd rather sleep through something like that?

But she'd said, on more than one occasion, that she loved being his own personal slut. She loved the way he used her, the way he always took care of her, made her feel wanted and loved and cherished in a way that no one else ever had.

And to think about it, that he couldn't stand being away from her for another minute...she actually loved it. She loved that he needed her and missed her just as much, maybe even more than she missed him.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, leaning back to release her legs from where they were wrapped around his forearms.

Beth shook her head, still trying to wake up while recovering from such an intense orgasm, the after effects of which were quickly dragging her back into drowsiness. She wondered if his run went okay, but decided that it had since he was back with her and in one piece.

He lay down next to her and wrapped her in his arms, "I love you so damn much, Beth."

"I love you, too," she whispered into his chest, where her head was currently resting.

He rested his hand on her belly, his fingers spreading to fan over her skin. "Think we made a baby tonight?"

Beth shrugged and fought the heaviness of her eyelids to look him in the eyes, "Maybe."

"Guess we can keep practicing until we find out, huh?" he said with a wolfish grin.

She snuggled further into him, "Give a girl a chance to recover, okay?"

Daryl kissed her forehead, "Yes, ma'am."


	3. Chapter 3

It was over a year since the night Daryl came back from the run and found Beth sleeping wearing only one of his shirts. It turned out he was right – they did end up making a baby that night. Now he was looking at his wife nursing their six-month-old daughter.

The only thing that made him happier was not being under Negan's rule any longer.

He wouldn't have thought he'd take to fatherhood so readily, but every step of the way was surprisingly easy for him. This tiny little girl had him wrapped around her finger; with just one look, he knew he was instantly doomed. No matter what she needed or wanted, he would be the one to provide it for her, regardless of how dangerous the run might be or how frivolous the demands were. He found himself embracing the feeling of this new level of responsibility that came with being a father, and was beyond ecstatic that Beth was right – he was _nothing_ like his father was.

There was more than that, though. He loved being a daddy, yes, but even more, he loved seeing Beth pregnant. He loved how she'd had a constant glow, one that ran deeper than he thought possible, even in her. He loved watching her belly grow, knowing it was his child she carried. Every change that wreaked havoc on her body only made her all the more beautiful to him. He was constantly in awe of her strength...

...and he was more than a little turned on by the whole idea that he did this to her.

Her uncontrollable hormones were his newest best friends; Beth was seemingly never satiated in the bedroom. Once he got over the odd feeling of uneasiness of "what if the baby's watching from the inside" and other such nonsense, he found that pregnant sex was pretty hard to beat. One of his favorite things to do was to stroke long and slow while gently rubbing her belly and watching her swollen tits wobble back and forth with each movement.

He couldn't wait to get her pregnant again, the current state of the world be damned. With Negan out of the way and the communities working together, life was slowly becoming closer to normal – as normal as life can be at the end of the world.

Now it was just a matter of timing. Daryl was nothing if not observant, so it shouldn't have surprised Beth when he picked up on the pattern of her cycle and knew just when she'd be most fertile.

"I got Maggie to watch Rosie for next weekend," he said as Beth was laying the baby down for a nap.

"Oh really?" she asked. "We going hunting?"

He scoffed, "You ain't leaving the damn house. Hell, not even leaving the bedroom. Not 'til I get you knocked up again."

Beth suddenly stood straight up and whirled to look at him with her eyes wide with surprise. He wasn't sure if it was what he'd actually said or just the bluntness of his words that shocked her. "Daryl Dixon! What are you talking about?" she hissed at him.

He put his hands on his hips and pulled her into the hallway, pushing her against the wall and attaching his lips to her neck. "I want another baby. I want lots of babies with you." He ground his hips into hers and growled into her ear, "And you, ya little slut, are gonna give 'em to me."

She physically shuddered against him at that. He hadn't called her that name in so long – hell, he hadn't needed to. She'd been jumping his bones all through her pregnancy so often she was basically proving what a slut for him she was. The last time they'd had sex was literally right before she went into labor, and it wasn't like she was trying to get contractions started; she just wanted him that badly.

When he raised his head to look at her, he watched as her eyes opened slowly, taking on that persona she adopted whenever they did this. "Yes, Sir," she said softly.

The weekend couldn't come fast enough for either of them. This dry spell between them had lasted long enough. Even though, before Beth, Daryl hadn't been with a woman in years, these past six months had been pretty rough on both of them.

They both knew Daryl wasn't exactly a wordsmith by any means, so he showed her he loved her best by making love to her. All the name calling was just a front, really. They both knew he didn't need to call her anything but 'Beth' for her to know he loved her and wanted her. It wasn't even like they needed to take on these roles every time they had sex. There was just something about that feeling of possession, that she belonged to him, that was exciting and arousing sure, but made them both feel safe, secure, cared for. They both felt most complete when they were together, especially when their bodies became one.

Beth had managed to find a razor, and made sure to make damn good use of it, shaving herself clean from the neck down, grinning as she imagined Daryl's reaction when he saw her. She had to admit to herself that she was nervous; her pregnancy had changed her body, inside and out, and though she knew Daryl still loved her, she didn't want to disappoint him. Would he still find her as sexy as he used to, now that she had stretch marks lining her belly (which was still a little droopy – baby fat was a bitch to get rid of, even in the damn apocalypse). Would she feel the same to him? Would he feel the same to her?

She was still worrying when she stepped out of the bathroom in her robe. She jumped when she looked up and saw Daryl already sitting on the bed, still fully clothed, a devilish grin on his face. "Off," he commanded, and she instantly untied the belt around her waist and let the terrycloth robe drop to the floor. Once she was standing naked in front of him, he moved swiftly, scooping her into his arms and depositing her unceremoniously on the bed with her legs draped over the side.

She fought a shiver as his eyes drank her in. He laughed almost wickedly, "Oh, look at that pretty little pussy. You do that for me, girl?" She nodded, suddenly unable to speak. "Well, guess I should show ya just how much I appreciate the effort."

In seconds, his mouth was on her, licking, kissing and nibbling at the sensitive skin at the crease where her thighs met her mound. He teased her over and over, never letting his tongue go where she wanted and needed him the most. It could have been minutes or hours, but regardless of how long it went on, Beth was shaking with tears of frustration, begging him to please, please please...but she couldn't get any other words out. When she tried to thread her fingers through his hair to guide his face to where she needed him, he pulled her hands away by her wrists and held them at her sides. "No, slut," he murmured against her, "I'm doin' this my way."

He changed tactics after that, now not even letting his mouth come in contact with her overly eager flesh. Instead, he hovered over her, just breathing on her, sometimes with the warmth of his open mouth, sometimes with the chill of him blowing a direct stream of air over her. She tried moving to meet him, but he only chuckled and moved her hands to rest on her hips, leaving her basically immobile. Her tears began to trickle down from the corners of her eyes into her ears as her sobs wracked her body.

She cried out when his lips finally sealed around her clit and sucked it into his mouth, his tongue flicking and twirling around it in a practiced rhythm guaranteed to make her fall apart. He toyed with her yet again, bringing her right to the edge of an orgasm, but stopping before she could cross that damned finish line. "Sir...please," she begged weakly.

"Please what?" He brought his head up to look at her, a wicked grin on his face. He pushed off the bed and crawled up to cover her body with his. "What you want, slut?"

"Please, sir," she whispered, "fuck me."

He squinted down at her, the grin still curling the corners of his mouth, "That all you want?"

Beth looked up at him and, seeing the lusty fire in his eyes, was reminded just why they were there. "Knock me up, sir, please."

Without a moment's pause, he slid his cock to the hilt inside her, forcing a sound from the depths of her lungs, a combination of a gasp, a moan, and a scream. Even after having given birth, he felt immense to her, deliciously stretching her to fit around him.

"Oh, shit, Beth," he said in a throaty whisper, "God, you feel so fucking good." He pulled her ankles up to rest on his shoulders before lowering himself onto her, still thrusting away, until his mouth met hers in a forceful kiss.

Beth could barely breathe as it was – being bent in half left no room for her lungs to expand the way she needed them to – but she returned the kiss the best as she could. He broke their kiss, leaving her gasping for air as he started nuzzling her neck, nudging her to turn her head to grant him better access.

"Open your eyes," he growled in her ear. She did as he told her, and saw that Daryl had moved their full length mirror from the corner of the room to sit so it was facing the bed. She watched as his hips pumped between her thighs; saw him covering her, claiming her. "Watch, Beth," he quietly commanded. "Watch while I put another baby in you."

His words shot through her, triggering her orgasm as he thrust one final time. Her inner walls milked every drop from him and drew it deep into her. Once the last of his cum had shot into her, he pushed off of her, leaving himself still nestled deep in her pussy, and pulled her up so her lower back was resting on his knees, her ankles still on his shoulders. "Don't want one drop leaking out of you," he explained.

He let his hands drift over her skin, up and down her legs, worshipping and teasing at the same time. He gradually slipped out of her and slowly let her sink back into the bed, turning her on her side before gathering her into his arms. "I love you so much, Beth," he murmured against the skin of her forehead in between kisses.

"I love you, too, Daryl," she replied. They were both quiet for a long time, to the point that they both thought the other had fallen asleep. "Daryl?" she whispered. His low hum told her he was awake enough to hear her. "I'm glad you want another baby."

"I want a bunch of babies with you," he answered.

"Me, too...for a couple reasons." He pulled back to look down at her and she explained, "I love being a mommy to our Rosie. I love seeing you being such a good daddy. But it's more than that." A tiny grin curled her lips, "I love everyone knowing you did this...that I'm all yours. Your little slut."

Daryl breathed out a laugh, "Guess we'll just have to keep making babies, then, make sure the message gets across." He rolled her onto her belly then moved to kneel behind her, pulling her ass up to his hips and her head on the pillows. Their conversation, however brief, had them both turned on again, and before long, Daryl was filling her for the second time of many that weekend.

Beth was rocking Carson after having just fed him, and watched through tired eyes as Rosie, nearly two years old now, played on the nursery floor with a stuffed giraffe Daryl had found for her. She glanced up and saw that her husband was leaning against the door frame, silently watching his family with an odd expression on his face. "I'll be right back," he said softly.

"Where are you going?" Beth whispered, not wanting to wake the baby.

Daryl grinned, "See what Maggie's doing this weekend."


End file.
